


got me down on both knees

by lourrygum



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Light BDSM, M/M, PWP, Punishment, just one bro helping another bro learn from his mistakes really, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-05-01 04:09:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5191610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lourrygum/pseuds/lourrygum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael can get a little too excited sometimes, taking his hyperactivity to a whole new level. During times like these, it's up to Ashton to calm him down.</p><p>or, ashton literally fucks michael senseless</p>
            </blockquote>





	got me down on both knees

**Author's Note:**

> title from hold me down by halsey
> 
> over the week I realised how much I like mashton so here u go lmao

"Come here." Ashton tells Michael when he opens the door and stands uncertainly in the doorway. Ashton's sitting on the edge of his bed. His thighs are spread apart apart a little, arms folded. 

Michael takes a hesitant step towards him, letting the door shut behind him. He stops about three feet away from the bed and digs his teeth into his bottom lip. Ashton had texted him to come over a few minutes ago, and hadn't replied when Michael had asked what for.

As if Michael didn't know exactly what for. 

Michael had been a little anxious since then, because he knew he'd fucked up a lot today. Ashton had told him, hell, so had Luke and Calum but sometimes he just can't stop, can't tone it down and concentrate or be serious.

"Ash..." He begins, not meeting his eyes. He figures he should try to explain. Ashton's jaw is clenched, an eyebrow raised at Michael as he stands rooted to the spot. Michael realises there's no point. He's pissed, very much so and Michael doesn't know how to feel about it but his heart is thudding in his chest and his palms are a little sweaty.

"Michael." Ashton says, voice calm and controlled as ever, "I've had enough of your fucking insolence. Can't you just do as you're told for once?"

Michael immediately opens his mouth to argue. It comes like a reflex, before he sees the look on Ashton's face and he shuts it again, taking the final few steps to Ashton's bed. Ashton stands up, and all of a sudden he seems much bigger than Michael, almost towering over him. Michael looks at the ground and tries to steady his shaky breaths.

"Can't even look me in the eye." Ashton breathes. "Look at me." He orders. Michael keeps his focus on the deep red carpet beneath his feet. 

Ashton puts two fingers under Michael's chin and tilts his head up. Michael swallows and meets his gaze. Ashton smiles a little, but it's different; it's not the easy, calm smirk that's usually found on his lips, but something a little more menacing, threatening. Michael's blood heats up beneath his skin, gulping again. __

"Ash," he whispers for the second time. It's like it's the only thing he can think of saying. His voice trails off when Ashton's fingers leave his chin and trail down his jaw, his neck.

"You've been bad all day, Michael. We had two interviews, at least thirty questions; you couldn't answer a single one of them seriously, could you?"

Michael makes a quiet noise in his throat, his head tipping back as Ashton drags his nails against his collarbones, marking him up a little. Ashton huffs a humourless laugh, stepping closer to Michael and slowly moving into him, and pressing his lips against the soft skin of Michael's neck. Ashton pulls away a little, running his thumb over the spot where his lips touched. Michael's close to panting. This is what Ashton does, how he works. Starts off barely touching him, light and teasing and then by the time he's done with him he's a fucked out mess that can't even remember his own name. Michael shivers delicately, his eyes slipping closed as raunchy memories fill his mind. 

"-Just make a huge fucking joke out of everything. You never fucking concentrate. Even now, you're not listening to me. Are you?" Michael doesn't answer, focusing on how Ashton's hands feel on him. Ashton lets his tongue dart out to lick at Michael's pale skin. He grazes his teeth against it, then sucks until Michael's whimpering. He blows on Michael's wet skin and then asks again, "Are you?"

Michael nods immediately after the second time, sighing quietly when Ashton pulls away. He takes a fistful of Michael's hair and tugs his head down to look at him. "No you're not." Ashton scoffs. "You're just going along with it, waiting for me to bend you over and fuck you. Isn't that right?"

Michael stares at him wide-eyed, and Ashton's grip on his hair tightens when he doesn't say anything. "N-no," he says quickly. 

Ashton smirks. "So you don't want me to fuck you, Michael?"

Michael is speechless, for the first time that day. He stares like a deer caught in the headlights and Ashton looks even angrier before he releases Michael, stepping away from him and unbuttoning his own jeans. Michael's breath hitches in his throat. Ashton hears it and scoffs.

"Don't get any ideas, Michael. You're going to have to _beg_ before I let you anywhere near me today."

Michael doesn't say anything, just watches as he pulls off his shirt, the muscles in his arms flexing and making Michael want to moan. Ashton kicks off his jeans and boxers. His cock slaps up against his stomach, and Ashton wraps a hand around it then sits back down on his bed. He looks up at Michael, starting to stroke himself slowly. Michael stares, wide-eyed.

"W-what are you doing?" He stammers out, voice a little lower than normal.

Ashton runs his thumb over and over the red tip of his cock, his hips bucking to meet his hand. He moans quietly before answering Michael. 

"What does it look like I'm doing?" He asks him.

Michael shakes his head. His jeans are already ridiculously tight and all Ashton's done to him is suck a mark into his neck. He bites his lip and runs a hand hesitantly over his cock, straining trough the denim of his jeans. He sighs in slight relief at the friction, palming himself again, squeezing gently. 

He waits for Ashton to say something, to stop him, bring him to his knees to fuck his mouth, to take him over his knee. He continues to stimulate himself through his jeans, and with every passing second the relief he had initially felt gives way to the need for _more_. 

Ashton doesn't stop him, just fists his cock a little faster, pre-come beading at the tip and making him groan. The muscles in his forearm are taut, his teeth digging into his lip. Michael feels a little weak at the knees.

"Please," Michael breathes, when Ashton narrows his eyes at Michaels fingers, which are trying to undo his button and zipper. He's given up on hoping Ashton will do something, take it a little further. 

Ashton's eyes flick up to look at his face. His fist slows it's pace around his dick, the ghost of a smile lifting his lips.

"Take your pants off." He allows. Michael doesn't need to be told twice; he pulls the button out of the loop, tugs the zipper down and then his jeans, along with his boxers. He kicks them both off. His hands twitch towards his aching cock but he knows better than to touch, not now when he's not in his jeans anymore.

"Shirt." Ashton calls. Michael pulls it off over his head.

"Good boy," Ashton praises, his right hand stilling completely, still wrapped loosely around himself. "Sit over here for me." Ashton nods towards the tail end of his large bed. Michael shuffles over to it without even thinking, then sits with his legs crossed. Ashton's eyes are on his cock, which looks like it's about to start leaking against his stomach. 

"Ashton, can I-" Michael cuts himself off, taking a breath. "Can I...?" His hand rests over his dick. His hips jerk a little at the slight stimulation.

"What is it, Mikey?" Ashton murmurs. "You've been only too vocal all day, what's wrong now?"

"Please," Michaels whimpering. Ashton's started to jerk himself off again, and Michael follows the movement of his hand up and down, up and down. "It _hurts_ , Ashton, it hurts," he lets out a shaky breath, eyes wide and pleading.

"I bet it does." Ashton smirks. "What exactly do you want? Want me to fuck you? Leave you a wreck? You probably fucking do, look at you. You're dripping all over the place and I haven't even touched you yet." Ashton stops, hisses quietly in pleasure. "You think it's bad now? Wait till I'm done with you."

"Please let me touch myself." Michael blurts, writhing a little against the bed, Ashton's dirty mouth making him dizzy with need. "Please, Ashton, please."

"Think you can make yourself come better than I can?"

Michael shakes his head, the moan he's been struggling to hold back spilling from his lips. "Ash-" he tries, before he's cut off.

"Should make you open yourself up for me," Ashton muses, "get yourself ready for my cock, yeah?"

Michael whines.

"Lay on your back." Ashton tells him, pulling the drawer next to his bed open. Michaels lays back. He slides the small bottle of lube over to Michael. Michael looks from it, to Ashton. Ashton raises an eyebrow at him, and Michael picks it up. He holds it in his hand, looking unsure. 

"Open it," Ashton's voice is getting breathier each minute, "get your fingers slick."

Michael nods, a ball of want curling in his stomach. He does as Ashton tells him and when his fingers are wet, he spreads his legs a little more, waiting for Ashton to tell him what to do next. He realises, from his position that Ashton has a clear view of his ass and flushes a little at how vulnerable he is right now.

Ashton sees his cheeks pinken and asks, his voice gentler, "You good?" Michael nods.

"Yeah." His hips lift off the bed a little, trying to wordlessly urge Ashton along. 

"Yeah?" Ashton grins, "I'd say you're more than good. You're fucking gagging for it, Mikey. You look so desperate, you know that?"

"Can I?" Michael pleads, spreading his legs a little further apart so he can rub a slick finger over his hole.

"Yeah," Ashton consents, watching Michael push his finger knuckle-deep into himself in the same second. Michael gasps at the feeling; it's been way too long since he's done this to himself, and the last time he and Ashton had done this was at least a month ago. He feels ridiculously tight around just one of his fingers. The thought that Ashton's going to fuck him, going to fit his cock up into Michael, makes him feel dizzy. He's going to fucking ruin him and Michael can't wait. 

"What do we say?" Ashton's voice is thick and Michael fights through the lust-filled haze in his brain to find his words to reply.

"Th-thank you, _ah_ ,"

Michael lets his finger thrust in and out of his hole, his tummy tightening with the pleasurable burn of it. Eventually he starts to feel himself loosen up a little, so he adds a second finger, feeling himself stretch a little more. He opens his eyes, not even having known he had shut them, and Ashton's looking right at him, at his fingers disappearing into his body. Michael whimpers loudly, pushing back against his hand and adding a third. 

He takes a breath and starts to curl them gently, cautiously because he knows when he finds his spot there's a chance he might not be able to stop.

"You like that?" Ashton's own hips buck into his tight fist, "Like how your fingers feel in your ass?"

"Ash, please," Michael voice sounds like a sob and he thinks he may be crying but he's not sure, "Need you, need your cock- ah, _ah_ /, shit," Michael groans, his fingers brushing tantalisingly against his prostate. His body shakes and he arches his back desperately, crying out when his fingertips press into his spot again. 

He thinks he hears Ashton hiss out an expletive, but his world is centred on his body, his fingers pushing deeper inside him and stimulating his prostate relentlessly, shameless whimpers of Ashton's name pouring from his lips. 

"Fuck." He hears Ashton moan. "Stop."

Michael just moans, fingers curling against his spot over and over, his back arched as the pleasure overwhelms him. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he knows he's been given an order, he's been told to stop. He _should_ stop, should pull his fingers out of himself, deny himself his orgasm. It's what he deserves, he was bad, he's been bad, he shouldn't...

He's coming, he's fucking-

"Ah, ah, _ah_ ," Michael cries out, his breathing ragging as he clenches around his fingers and spurts out all over his chest and tummy. He pulls his fingers out, his eyes shut as he comes down. Before he can even catch his breath, there are hands on his hips, fingers digging harshly into the soft flesh. 

In one smooth thrust, Ashton is partially inside of Michael, fucking a sound close to a scream out of him. His eyes open wide and everything is a blur until Ashton runs his hand through Michael's hair and then pulls. 

Michal gasps out, his hips lifting off the bed and earning a hand pressing against his stomach, holding him down firmly. 

"Ashton," Michael groans, whining helplessly, "you're so big, I... fuck," he trails off. Ashton's still inside him, and Michael can feel his eyes on his face, checking for discomfort.

"I should just fucking leave you here." Ashton growls into Michaels ear, "Use you to get myself off then go."

"No," Michaels whimpers, his cock twitching betrayingly at the thought of it, "No, Ash, please-"

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't."

"'M sorry," Michael rasps. Ashton rolls his hips into the younger boy, slowly filling him up, staring right into Michael's eyes while he moans, trying to adjust to his size. 

"For what?" Ashton sounds breathless, and Michael's nearly half hard _again_ , fuck. 

"F-for everything," he pants. Ashton's bottomed out, their hips flush against each other, Michael's dick thickening between them. Michael tries to push back but Ashton like a brick wall, he's unmovable and Michael ends up frustrated. 

"Yeah?" Ashton rolls his hips against him, "For making yourself come without permission?"

"Yes," Michael whimpers.

"For being bad earlier?"

" _Yes_ ,"

"You really sorry or are you just saying that so I'll fuck you?" Ashton murmurs, slowly pulling out of Michael and making his hands clench into fists. 

"I am, promise, I just- just couldn't stop." Michael squirms. 

"Felt too good, did it?" Ashton starts to fill Michael again; agonisingly slowly. Michael groans in frustration. He's hard again, and it hurts, the overstimulation, the feeling that he's going to come again when he just did not too long ago.

"Please," Michael begs him quietly, struggling against Ashton's hold on him. "Need it, Ash, please,"

"You'll listen next time?" Ashton asks him, slowly pulling out again, but not filling him again. "Be good for me?"

Michael nods fervently; he knows Ashton's talking about what happened earlier, too, what made Ashton tell him to come here in the first place.

"I'll be good," Michael promises, his breath leaving him as Ashton fills him a second later. Michael whimpers as Ashton, _finally_ , stops holding back, pounding into Michael, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room along with breathless gasps. 

Ashton's hand rubs over Michael's thigh before grabbing hold of it and pushing his legs open wider, watching Michael's face contort in pleasure as the new angle helps him hit his prostate. Ashton holds the position, rolling his hips against Michael until he can feel the slickness of Michael's pre-come wetting both their stomachs.

Ashton's watching Michael's face, thrusting into him faster as he nears the edge. "You're going to come so fucking hard." Ashton groans, leaning down to press his lips against Michael's.

Michael lets out a gasp of surprise and Ashton lets his tongue slide against the younger boys'. They've never kissed before, and Michael had always been scared to ask for it, which is a little ridiculous considering the other things they've done together. Michael gets his wits about him and kisses him back eagerly, moaning into Ashton's hot mouth.

Michael has no real balance, no way of moving; Ashton's grip on his hips only tighten if anything. All he can do is just lay there and _take it_ as Ashton fucks obscene sounds out of him.

Michael's cock is full and aching between them but it doesn't even cross his mind to touch it, to ask if he can jack off because Ashton's fucking him so good, taking care him _so well_.

“Ash, _Ashton_ ,” Michael gasps out from the sensation of it all, fucking gone with the intensity and strength on too of him, slamming into him. whimpering at how small Ashton's making him feel, how weak, how fucked.

They're not kissing anymore, Ashton's lips are pressed against Michael's neck and he's moaning out curses mixed in with Michael's name.

"Fuck," Ashton groans, "fuck, Michael, _fuck_ ,"

As Ashton loses control, Michael's back arches against him, panting out a desperate, "'M gonna-"

Ashton just nods and then Michael's coming, clenching even tighter around Ashton, moaning as he feels him filling him.

They both lay panting for a minute, breathing in the aftershocks, before Ashton presses another kiss to Michael's lips to distract him from the over-sensitivity of him pulling out of him. Michael whimpers all the same, and Ashton moans quietly when he sees his come dripping out of him. He rolls onto his back next to Michael. 

Michael has the strangest urge to grab Ashton's hand and hold onto it forever, so he does. When he's come down a bit, he looks up at Ashton and Ashton squeezes his hand tight.

"You did good, babe." He praises, making Michael feel warm.

"You too." Michael murmurs, making Ashton chuckle. "You don't... You don't think it's weird that I like being- being treated like that?" Michael asks after a short silence."

"No. Do you think it's weird that I love it?" Ashton smirks. Michael shakes him head, smiling. "There you go, then."

"I think I need a long nap." Michael mutters sleepily.

Ashton nods, lips against his hair. "'Night, Mikey." He says, even though it's 5pm.

"'Night, Ash."

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading,, come be my friend on tumblr: gonnamuke.tumblr.com


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